


Connor & Evan

by RedGayBlueGay



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff & Angst, Gen, Great Comet AU, Hopeful Ending, Kinda a sickfic, M/M, Multi, Suicide Attempt, TW: Blood, TW: Vomiting, and this Trash fire happened, arsenic - Freeform, boom I just combinded it togetherness, i was listening to natasha very ill and got Ideas, might actually make into full fic, then I listened to pierre & natasha and more ideas, yes I actually did it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 06:44:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15880689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedGayBlueGay/pseuds/RedGayBlueGay
Summary: Evan stares at the bottle with tears in his eyes. He’s shaking. His mind is a mantra ofhe’s married, he’s married, Jared is married, he lied, he lied, I ruined the family, I shouted at Alana, I’m a failure, I ruined the family name.He messed up. Why did he think that getting hitched after knowing the man for three fucking days was a good idea? When healready hada betrothed?





	Connor & Evan

**Author's Note:**

> ya girl is bacc y’all
> 
> TW:  
> -Vomiting  
> -Blood  
> -Angst  
> -Suicide Attempt  
> -Arsenic  
> -Poison
> 
> oh yeah btw Maria is an oc

Evan stares at the bottle with tears in his eyes. He’s shaking. His mind is a mantra of _he’s married, he’s married, Jared is_ ** _married_** _,_ _he lied, he lied, I ruined the family,_ ** _I shouted at Alana_** _, I’m a failure, I ruined the family name._

 

He messed up. Why did he think that getting hitched after knowing the man for _three fucking days_ was a good idea? When he _already had_ a betrothed?

 

God, Maria was manipulative.

 

This is his own fault. He let Maria brainwash him into going to that ball.

 

He let Jared kiss him.

 

He did this. He did this to himself.

 

Evan lets out a sob. He opens the bottle, and takes a long sip. The drink _burns_. He coughs harshly, tears streaming down his cheeks.

 

A minute passes, and he’s feeling faint. The bottle’s label reads _arsenic_.

 

Evan stumbles to his door, coughing and gasping for air. He didn’t want this.

 

He’s always messing up his own future.

 

His stomach jolts, and he vomits. Blood mixes with bile.

 

Evan’s very ill.

 

He barely makes it to Alana’s door without passing out.

 

His throat _burns_ like hellfire.

 

He knocks.

 

Alana opens her door, tears still streaming down her cheeks. She takes in the pale, bile and blood-covered Evan. Worry consumes her eyes.

 

Evan shows her the bottle, and she gasps.

 

“ _HEIDI!_ ” She _shrieks_ . “ _HEIDI, CALL FOR A DOCTOR!_ ”

 

Minutes pass, Evan thinks. His concept of time is messy. One moment he’s lying on the couch, Alana trying to shove her fingers down his throat to make him vomit, the next it’s a flurry of commotion.

 

Doctors, gross-tasting medicine, cold water.

 

Vomit, blood.

 

He’s in a daze.

 

Evan jolts awake, gasping for breath. He feels weak. His stomach is turning. Alana is asleep in the chair by the couch, her glasses slipping off her nose. Heidi is pacing in front of him. A glass of lemon and flower water rests on the table in front of him.

 

He reaches out, and then realizes how weak he really is. His arm shakes like a leaf in a blizzard, and he can barely touch the glass.

 

He pulls his arm back, and coughs.

 

His throat is burning again.

 

Heidi finally notices him. Her eyes fill with relief, and she walks to him quickly.

 

“Evan,” she murmurs, “you’re okay, it’s okay. You’re safe, you’re alive.”

 

He opens his mouth to say something, but only makes a high-pitched, scratchy whine.

 

She hands him the water.

 

Greedily, he gulps it down like a starving man would with bread.

 

Heidi pours him a second glass.

 

Days pass, and Evan slowly regains a bit of strength.

 

He’s standing in the drawing room, watching snow fall. There’s a gentle knock on the frame. He jumps, and turns. Connor Murphy is standing there. Letters are stacked in his hands. He looks...upset. Evan’s cheeks redden, and Connor is quick to hurry to his side. He breathes heavily, knowing his life has crumbled apart.

 

“Connor James Murphy,” he addresses quietly, softly.

 

“Connor,” replies the other man, just as soft.

 

“Princess Zoe was your friend—she _is_ your friend,” Evan remembers, feeling the sting of tears press against his eyes, “She always told me to turn to you.” He chuckles mirthlessly.

 

Connor opens his mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. He sniffs. He should feel loathing towards Evan, should feel anger towards the young man. But...he can’t seem to have any bad emotions towards his broken soul. Evan looks like hell, looks like he’s been through hell. Connor can’t find it in him to be reproachful. He felt such pity for him.

 

“She...She is here now,” Evan murmurs, and continues at Connor’s not, “Tell her to...tell her to forgive me.”

 

“Yes, I will tell her to forgive you,” Connor confirms, “But, she gave me your letters—“

 

“No,” Evan replies, his voice thick with emotion, “No, I know all is over. I know that it never can be. But...I’m still _tormented_ by the wrongs I’ve done her,” his voice cracks, and he represses a sob. “Tell her that I _beg_ her, beg her to forgive...forgive me.” Evan sounds so...so _distressed_.

 

“I will tell her, tell her everything. But—“ Connor swallows thickly, “But I should like to know one thing. Did you love—“ his voice catches “Did you love that bad man?”

 

“ _Don’t call him bad,_ ” Evan snaps, with only a bit of heat. His face crumbles, and he quietly admits, “But I don’t know...I don’t know at—at all…”

 

He began to cry, finally breaking apart under the pressure. Evan sobs, the force of each sob shaking his frail body.

 

Connor feels a great sense of pity, tenderness, and love overflood his heart. He can’t deal with people he cares about crying. He himself cries. Tears trickle down his cheeks, and he prays nobody sees them. “We...we won’t speak of it at all. We won’t speak of it, my dear,” he gently cups Evan’s cheeks, making the smaller man look into his eyes, “But one thing I beg of you, consider me your friend. And if you ever need help, or simply to open your heart to someone, not now, but when your mind is clear. Think of me—“

 

He’s interrupted by Evan. “Don’t speak to me like that,” the blond pleads, his cheeks wet with tears, “I am not worth it.”

 

“Stop, stop, _stop_.” Connor hushes, “You have your whole life before you—“

 

“Before me? No—all is over for me…”

 

“All over?” Connor pauses, then laughs emotionlessly. He steps away from Evan, wiping roughly at his cheeks. Finally, he admits something that’s been in his heart for _years_ . “If...if I were not myself, but the brightest, handsomest, _best_ man on Earth. And if I were free—“ his voice breaks, “I would...get down on my knee this _minute_ , and ask you for your hand. And...for your love.”

 

Silence washes over the drawing room.

 

Finally, it’s broken by Evan. He’s sobbing and laughing at the same time. He’s weeping tears of gratitude, tears of tenderness, tears of thanks.

 

He walks up to Connor, his eyes glittering with tears, and smiles. Gently, he wraps his frail arms around the taller male, and squeezes. Connor carefully hugs him back, his own tears streaming down his cheeks.

 

The two men cling to each other like lifeboats.

 

When they break apart, Evan smiles brightly at Connor, even though tears are still streaming freely down his cheeks.

 

Evan exits the drawing room, slowly but steadily.

 

Connor watches after him, choking on tears of tenderness and joy and love. He pulls on his coat, unable to find the sleeves.

 

He makes it outside, where his car is waiting. The mansion looms behind him. Despite the ten degrees of frost, he breathes in deeply, appreciating the sting the cold gives him.

 

Finally, he steps into his car, knowing his life was gonna change. For good or for bad, he won’t know till he gets there.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading my shitty au lmao
> 
> let me know if y’all want me to make this into an actual fic 
> 
> uhhh lyrics are kinda modified to fit, but it’s mostly from Pierre & Natasha (the best song in that damn musical—)


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